Human Again
by devilishblacksheep
Summary: I wanted to write my version of how everyone's favorite exvampire joined the Nightstalkers, so here it is for your reading pleasure. Some humor, some angst...'cuz what good story doesn't have angst? And violence, can't forget the violence...
1. Becoming

**Fanfic numba two!**

**I decided to write about how Abby and Hannibal met…I figured, even though it's probably been done to death, that there needed to be at least one more in the world. Plus, I figured the site could use some more fanfic. Anyway, enjoy.**

**I do not own Blade, or any division of it, or any of the characters…even though I want to…come on, it'd be fun. Again, I've never read the comic books, although I watch Blade: Trinity religiously (yes, I know I need to get a life). So please don't yell at me if I get the little details wrong. Whatever I don't know is the wonderful idea of my brain, so blame it if you don't agree. Better yet, write your own. I guess I'll let you get to the story now.**

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Human Again

He was sitting in the dark when she found him. He was totally trashed, but that was nothing new; when you are immortal and hate your existence, you really have nothing better to do. She silently cursed her brother; when would Asher learn that her plaything was vastly more entertaining when sober? Granted, he was annoying as hell, but it was infinitely more fun to smack around someone who was a little more…responsive? She entered the room, and the man on the floor slowly raised his head. He blinked a few times, as if to confirm to himself that she was indeed there, then dared the complicated act of speech. "Dan'ca?" he slurred. "Yes, lover?" Danica responded, wondering what new insults his alcohol-soaked brain was going to attempt now. After a few minutes, he admitted, "I forgot." Well, this was an improvement, she thought. "That's all right, I'm sure it'll come to you eventually. Call me when you come up with something worthwhile."

She left the room, and stormed over to her brother, intent on lecturing him on the finer points of keeping a pet. "ASHER! How many times do I have to tell you to keep him away from the vodka? You know he's no fun when he's drunk – there's no use in playing if he's not even going to put up a fight…" But Asher cut her off. "I'm sorry, dear sister, but the little prick was getting on my nerves…there is only so much of his childish comments that I can take. He should be sober in an hour or so…the bottle was only half full. And then, Dan, you can have all the fun with him that you want."

Forced to be content with the situation, Danica Talos stalked off to her room. An hour later, she returned to the room that had started her bad mood. Today Hannibal King was going to pay for his behavior.

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The man in question had significantly improved over the past hour. He was still sitting in the dark, but he was more alert this time, and actually stood when she entered the room, straining at the chains that held his wrists to the floor as she approached. His temper, however, had not. "Good evening, Danica. Fuck any brothers lately?" Danica decided to let that one slide; there was more where that came from, and it likely wouldn't be the last such comment she would hear before she returned to her room. "No. Feed lately?" The man's face fell. It was going to be one of _those _nights. Danica caught his change in mood, partly in the strengthening of the fear stench he reeked of most days and partly because she knew his moods…_intimately_. He still resented her for turning him, and hated himself for allowing it to happen. Not that there was much he could have done to prevent it; once a vampire has it in its mind to turn you, that's it. But he could have avoided the whole situation by listening to the voice in his head that had been screaming that she was trouble of the worst kind. Not that he ever had, but there was a first time for everything, right?

Hannibal was in a sea of hate. Had been for the past five years, come to think of it. Hate of Danica, hate of her brother Asher, hate of the life Danica had given him, hate of himself. He remembered what it had been like before; a family, a job, a life, and sunrises. God, it had been ages since he had seen a sunrise. And there wasn't the thirst. That was what he hated most about his new "life". It was always there, and no matter how much blood he drank, it never went away completely. He would put it off for days at a time, waiting until he could barely think of anything else. He knew it wasn't smart; it would only make it worse when he did feed, but he couldn't help it. Danica kept telling him to accept his new "life," but he couldn't…he was a monster. And the longer he put it off, the more it hurt. After a few days he would get stomach pains, and his fangs wouldn't recede, no matter how much he tried to make them. And then he would have to feed or else he'd die, and although he was okay with that, Danica wasn't, and there was no denying the thirst.

Like now. Danica seemed to know when he had it the worst, and she would always show up and taunt him with it. "No. I'm feeling pretty good right now, actually. I was just thinking about starting up a rousing game of scrabble."

"Don't lie…it's been five years, King. I know when you're thirsty." She leaned in close, whispering in his ear. "And right now, you've got it baaaad."

King was good at hiding pain. He knew all the tricks; biting your tongue, keeping busy, ignoring it, taking painkillers (not that he did, but it's a good trick anyway). But for some reason, whenever Danica showed up, none of it worked (except for the painkillers, but that's a chemical reaction, not a distraction). Now was no different. He gave in to the pain, crying out when she kicked him in the stomach. She enjoyed hurting him way too much. "You sadistic bitch," he gasped, falling to the floor and wrapping his arms around his stomach. She came closer, and he bared his fangs at her. "Now, now," she crooned, "play nice and I'll give you a treat. A nice, juicy one."

"I don't want a fucking treat, you bloodsucking whore!" he yelled. "I want you to leave me the fuck alone!"

"Fine. I'll do that. I was going to bring you out hunting with me tonight, but if you're going to be nasty I'll just leave you home. I'll leave you here with the thirst, and I'll wait until you're begging me to kill you, and then I'll bring in a child for you to feed on, so you can feel some of that guilt you seem to be so fond of."

And with that, she left. Left him there with his guilt. He had never really known the meaning of the word until Danica came into his life. Now he felt it all the time. Guilt over how she had given him life and took life from so many others, guilt over the people he had to kill to survive, and, most strongly, guilt over the fact that when he was feeding he actually _enjoyed_ it. Not like "oh boy, I get to feed again, hooray." It was a more primal enjoyment…hard to put into words. It was like a need, a dark pleasure in the eroticism of the whole thing. Taking someone's life force, getting that close to them…He stopped thinking about it. It was just wrong, pure and simple. No one should get that much enjoyment out of it. No one.

He fell into a stupor, the vampire's means of conserving energy until a food source was more readily available. It just hurt too much to be conscious. He knew he would wake the minute someone entered the room, keyed in to the scent of their blood and all it promised.

He woke a half hour later as someone entered the room. He was unfamiliar with the scent…female, but someone new. Danica's latest attempt to get him to feed? He knew he wouldn't be able to restrain himself long, so he backed himself up as far as the chains would allow, and bit his lip hard, in an attempt to stave off the thirst as long as he could. "Turn your ass around and tell Danica that she's gonna have to try a hell of a lot harder." He heard the chick inhale sharply and back up, as if she had been unaware that there was someone else in the room. He just hoped she was smart enough to get the hell out while she still could. Provided the bitch hadn't locked the door on her….

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Abigail Whistler had entered the building as quietly and unobtrusively as she knew how; through the sewers. When would vamps learn that sewers provided great access to places that were supposed to be impenetrable? No one put cameras there, or security of any kind. So stupid. She skulked through the building, ashing vamps as she went. None of them even saw her coming. Bows were efficient that way.

She came to a room at the end of the hall that seemed to be built a little more securely than the rest. It had a huge solid metal door, with bolts to secure it shut. What did they have locked in there? And why were the locks on the outside of the door? What were they trying to keep in? Since it was vamps, it must be something nasty. She figured she'd go in and check it out…after all, there wasn't much she couldn't handle.

She cautiously undid the bolts, and pushed the door open. She pulled out a pistol and prepped the blades hidden in the toes of her boots. No use in being unprepared. She entered the room and stood in the dark for a few minutes, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Turn your ass around and tell Danica she's gonna have to try a hell of a lot harder."

Abby heard the disembodied voice in the darkness, and immediately suppressed a scream. She backed towards the wall behind her, trying to make a little space between herself and the thing in the room. "Who's there?" She asked, getting ready to attack if the voice got any closer.

"The Easter Bunny. Seriously, do you have to be so cliché?" The voice sounded in pain, but Abby had been in too many fights with vampires to be trusting enough to get any closer. After all, she wasn't stupid. "The lights should be behind you. I'm guessing you can't see a damn thing, and somehow it isn't quite the same if your prey is blind. No thrill of the chase and all..."

She felt behind her, and sure enough, there was a lightswitch on the wall. She flipped it on and saw the irony of the occupant's comment. He was a young man, wearing nothing but a pair of khaki pants and combat boots and a pair of thick steel handcuffs attached to a ring in the floor with a chain that ran through the ring, attaching the two handcuffs. His wrists were bloody, as if he had tried to escape the cuffs numerous times by trying to pull his hands through. Unsuccessfully, thank God. She could tell immediately that he was a vampire. First off, he had the fangs, and secondly she could smell it on him. It came off him in waves, the smell of death and blood mixed with something otherworldly that was impossible to describe. At least he wasn't trying to attack. In fact, he had pushed himself as far back as the chain would allow, so that he was almost in the far corner of the room. He was trying not to look at her, but wasn't succeeding. Every so often he would quickly glance at her, then just as quickly look away.

"Please. If you're going to do it, just get it over with."

"What?" Abby asked. She had never heard a vampire actually ask her to kill it before. Well, maybe on occasion, but just so she could get close enough for it to try for her neck. They were usually the lazy ones.

"You heard me. What, are you not a slayer? Do I need to walk you through it, give you directions, draw you a map? Let's see…grab stake, that's the thing with the pointy tip…"

"I know how to kill a vampire, asshole. I just haven't heard many of your kind try to get a quick meal by pulling that sad excuse of a trick."

"Don't believe me? Give me a stake and I'll do it myself…The only reason I haven't yet is because her royal bloodfuck won't let me have pointy objects…says they're dangerous. Who knew?"

Abby was skeptical about this new development. Sure he may be sincere, but he was a vampire. And, from the looks of things, hadn't fed in a while, meaning he was unpredictable and extremely dangerous. "Look, asshole. How the hell am I supposed to believe that you won't try to kill me the minute I get close enough?"

"Actually, asshole's my middle name. Most people call me Hannibal. Hannibal King. And if I were going to kill you, I would have done it already. The chain is really only a means of keeping me in the room, not insurance against attacking hot little chicks like yourself."

Abby rolled her eyes. Did he really expect her to buy this?

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Why was she being so damn careful? He didn't blame her, not really, but it was annoying as hell. Why didn't she just get on with it? It's not like they didn't have the same goal for this situation.

The thirst rose suddenly. Damn it. He had figured he would have more time, but apparently he was wrong. The world began to swim, and he clutched his stomach in sudden pain.

The world cleared. The chick approached him, just close enough. He launched himself forward – how did he get so lucky? - and grabbed her around the waist. His fangs were at the ready, perfectly designed for their intended purpose. He roughly pushed her head over to one side, to better access the jugular vein. He bit, and the blood began to rush into his mouth. As he drank, he realized just how thirsty he really was, and couldn't seem to drink fast enough. She moved closer, stopping her thrashing and giving in to the twisted ecstasy that always presented itself in victims of vampires. He drained her dry, dropping her body when he couldn't get any more out.

Hannibal shook his head to clear the daydream. God, this had to stop. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He looked across the room to where she still stood, alive and well. Thank God.

"Okay, that's it. I'm resorting to logic, since you seem to be forgetting why you're here. You are a slayer. I am a vampire, much as I hate to admit it. You are supposed to make with the death, killing my kind, since it insults your morals, or something like that. I, being an immoral piece of shit by definition, am deserving of death. So smite me, or whatever it is you do."

She turned towards him, giving him a dirty look.

"No dice? Okay, switch tactics. How about pleading? Will that work? Maybe the angsty vibe will get the job done. Let's see…I hate my life, I want to die, please kill me, for I am so depressed and unhappy…Nothing. Man, you are one cold bitch."

She looked at him again. Maybe he could be an asset, since he clearly wanted no part of the life he had now. "You know, there are other options."

"What? Are you kidding me? Death is the only way out of this fucking pyramid scheme. Trust me."

"No, I'm totally serious. I have a friend who engineered a cure. We haven't actually tested it out on anyone before, but what have you got to lose? If it works, you'll be human again, and could help us out killing these bastards. And if it doesn't, it'll kill you, so it's win-win."

Hannibal thought. She drove a hard bargain… "Alright, it's a deal. Where do I sign up?" She offered him a hand. He looked at it for a minute, not believing his luck. After five years, he had finally found a way out. It was about damn time.

"I'm Abby, by the way."

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By the time they got to the headquarters of the tentatively named "Nightstalkers," Hannibal had already lapsed back into unconsciousness. They were met by Dex and Hedges, two other members of the group, who had been alerted to the situation while Abby was driving over. "So, how is he?" Dex asked, asking more because he felt it was expected of him, not really because he cared. Dex was more into killing vampires than making friends with them. "He's unconscious, so it's hard to tell," Abby responded. "He seemed pretty lucid when I found him, but he said it's been a few days since he last fed, so he's pretty weak, and I doubt he'll keep his lucidity much longer, if he hasn't already lost it."

"Well, don't just stand there staring at him; bring him in so we can try it out!" A new voice came from the doorway of the building. Sommerfield, the final member of the ragtag group, was the resident scientist. She was the one responsible for engineering the cure, and was eager to see if it would work or not. Of course, for her the seeing was metaphorical; she had been blind for as long as she could remember. Not that it bothered her much; she was as likely to make fun of her disability as anyone else.

Hedges and Dex grabbed Hannibal from the van and carried him the short distance to the building. They walked over to a table and carefully placed him on it, then Dex went to a wall of tools and grabbed a strong-looking chain. He approached the unconscious man and secured the chain to his wrists by way of handcuffs, then secured the handcuffs to the table. Abby glared at him. "What, do you want him to get loose and kill everyone here? Do you want him to kill Zoe? At least I picked the steel ones and not silver."

"I really don't think he's going to kill anyone, Dex," Abby returned. "First off, he's unconscious, and second of all, although starving vamps are less predictable than ones that have fed, and therefore more dangerous, they also make stupid mistakes, and are therefore a hell of a lot easier to kill."

"Fine. Let's get this over with. But the chains are staying on."

Sommerfield reemerged from her lab with a syringe of a bluish liquid. She walked over to where Hannibal lay, and turned to Abby. "You might want to wake him up for this. I'm not sure how it works, and the best way to tell if it's doing its job would be to watch him. Since you're the only one here that he knows, and therefore the only one of us he trusts, you should probably be the one to wake him up."

Abby approached the unconscious King and poked him a few times, but got no response. "Damn it. It's Hannibal, right? Come on, Hannibal…I know you're in there." She shook him a little, hoping that it would wake him up. Finally he carefully opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and blearily looked around. "Umm, this is new. An explanation would be great."

"This is our headquarters. The one with the needle is Sommerfield, who's the one responsible for the cure. The geeky guy is Hedges, who's in charge of weapons. And the scowling guy in the corner is Dex. Sommer's going to inject you with the cure, and she wanted you to be conscious."

Hannibal pulled at his wrists, realizing that he was chained up…yet again. "What is it with women…they all seem to want to chain me up. Are all of you sadists, or am I just lucky like that?"

Whistler rolled her eyes. "It's just a precaution. I know you said you weren't going to feed, but Dex here quite frankly doesn't believe you. And since he's in charge of keeping all our asses safe at base, his word goes. Plus, we're not sure how you're going to react to the injection, and the last thing we want is a starving vamp barging around the building."

"Alright. Just wanted to know." He took a deep breath. "You'd better start this party sooner rather than later, 'cuz in a minute I'm not going to be much help to you." He closed his eyes in pain, took another deep breath, winced, and exhaled slowly.

"You heard the man, let me through." Sommerfield approached the bed, turning to Abby once she did. "Okay, now unless you want him to turn into a human pincushion, you'd better do it. But before you do, I'd better tell him what to expect." Abby nodded. "Hannibal?" He opened his eyes and looked at the woman in front of him. "I'm not really sure how this is going to work, quite frankly. It's never been tested before, so I can't tell you much about what to expect. It's probably going to hurt a lot, since it has to kill all the infected cells in your bloodstream. Also, since you've been a vampire for so long, I'm not quite sure how that's going to affect its effectiveness. It might not even work; if you don't have any healthy cells left, it'll just kill all your blood cells, and nothing can survive that. We're hoping that you'll have a few left, so the remaining ones can replicate and you'll be human again. It may take a while, and you'll be weak for longer, but if it works, you'll be okay…that's it. All yours, Abby."

Abby took the syringe, and straightened out Hannibal's arm. He was breathing heavily now, and bit his lip until it bled, sucking it into his mouth when it began to flow. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Because there's no other alternative. I need the blood, and if I keep doing it it'll fool my system into thinking it's getting some. Granted, it won't work forever, but as long as it does I won't randomly decide to go suckhead on you."

"Oh, thanks…I really appreciate the gesture," Abby said sarcastically. Hannibal chuckled to himself, then began to cough. "Could we hurry this up?"

"Why, do you have somewhere to be?" She pressed the tip of the syringe to his arm, and injected its contents into his bloodstream. "Now we wait."

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An hour later, Hannibal woke up from a light doze to the most intense pain he'd ever felt. It rivaled the pain he had felt after Danica had bit him…damn bitch. It was a burning in his veins, a burning in his stomach, and a general uncomfortableness all over. He tried to roll over onto his side, but it didn't help. "Fuck!" He gasped. "God! Why the fuck does it have to hurt so _damn_ much!" Abby came over to the bed. Fuck her and her damn friend, he wished she had just killed him when she found him. He looked up at her.

"You know, we did warn you."

"And you expected me to listen? Man, I don't think I heard a word either of you said. I was barely aware you were talking."

"That's not my fault; you were talking to me."

He rolled over, curled up in as much of a ball as he could, and tried to ignore the pain. It was hard, damn near impossible, but he would give it his best shot. At least when it hurt this much it was easier to pass out. And unconscious, he wouldn't feel a thing.

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She watched him sleep. He was still curled up, protecting the part of his body he could identify that hurt the most. Every so often he would whimper and temporarily curl up even tighter until the pain let off a little, when the ball would loosen a little. She moved closer to unlock the handcuffs; no matter what Dex said, he wasn't a threat anymore. Abby couldn't tell if the injection was working, because Sommerfield had told her that either way he would probably feel and look like he was dying. She almost hoped it wasn't working, because at least that way he would be put out of his misery sooner; she had been told that if it worked the conversion would probably take longer, and the pain he felt probably wouldn't let up until he was totally human again. She wondered if his fangs would retract permanently or if he'd have to file them down…she knew his organs would go back to normal, but would bone? She silently left the room, needing a break from the young man's pain.


	2. Starting Over

**Me here again…I've borrowed some ideas from other fanfics…if you read this and you wrote something that I borrowed an idea from, you'll know who you are. I also borrowed dialog from the movie…if you've seen it, you'll know it when you come to it. That's it…enjoy the conclusion to "Human Again"...it's a little shorter than the first part, but just as good…in my opinion, at least…**

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"Okay, that's just gross." Abby was looking into a bucket that currently contained a substance that looked disturbingly like tomato soup. It smelled awful.

"You might want to move; it looks like he's not quite done yet." Hedges was taking way too much pleasure out of this, but Abby quickly moved out of the way as a deathly pale Hannibal lurched towards the bucket, barely making it before the entire contents of his stomach exploded out of his mouth. "I had no idea anyone's stomach could hold so much liquid!"

"I have to leave." Abby said, looking pretty green herself. No one paid attention as she left, since two of the four occupants of the room seemed to think Hannibal's activities were incredibly interesting, and the fourth was a little busy engaging in said activity. "What _is_ that?" Hedges asked, sounding an awful lot like a fifth grader examining roadkill for the first time.

"Blood. Sounds like it's everything he's drank for the past few months. Smells like it too. Man, King, you reek." He gave her a shaky look, unsure whether he should be insulted or amused. He settled for amused, since it took a lot less energy.

"Well, whatever it is, it looks nasty. What does it taste like?"

"Hedges, right?" The man who was the subject of recent discussion asked. "Would you mind not talking about the contents of my stomach? Now is really not the time. Although if you want to try some for yourself, I'm sure you could find a spoon somewhere…" And with that pleasant thought, he returned to his bucket. When he was finished, he wiped some partially digested blood from his mouth. "I think that might be the last of it," he said, sinking to the floor. He felt exhausted, more so than any other point in his life that he could identify.

"So why was he puking blood? Wouldn't it all have been digested?"

"Well, vampires actually have a different method of digestion. I know you're not much for technical explanations, so I'll explain it in terms you'll understand. The digestive system of humans doesn't do well with large amounts of blood; it just can't digest it. So when vampires go through the change, their digestive system shuts down, or at least most of it does. A small amount of blood gets into the stomach each feeding, but not enough to make the stomach reject it. Since King's been a vamp for five years, he's accumulated quite a bit of blood, and his body needs to get rid of it now since his digestive system is up and running again. Thus the puking of blood, as you so delicately put it. And why it smells so bad; some of it has been sitting there for five years, so it's actually in the process of decomposition."

"Thanks for the science lesson," King chimed in, "But it still sucks. Can someone help me to the bed? I want to sleep, but I seriously doubt I could make it that far." He was so tired he was unable to even make a joke about either Sommerfield's explanation or his current condition. It was all he could manage to stay upright. Hedges walked over to where King sat and inelegantly dragged him over to the bed and somehow managed to get him into the bed. The two then left Hannibal to his much needed rest.

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Abby entered the room a few hours later, after being assured that King was asleep and no longer vomiting. She watched him sleep, amazed at how long he had lasted. He was nearing the end of the conversion back to human, and was sleeping easier. She decided to let Zoe in to see him once he woke. She had been bugging Abby since the moment he got there, but until now they hadn't been sure if that was a good idea; they all felt protective of Zoe, even though she was Sommerfield's daughter and therefore no actual relation to the rest of them, so they wanted to make sure King was back to his old self before they let her in.

Hannibal turned over, suddenly restless. He began tossing and turning, in the grips of a nightmare. She could hear him whispering "no" to himself over and over, first defiantly, and, as she watched, less so, as if he were pleading with whoever was in his dream. She couldn't let this go on any more; whatever it was, he didn't deserve it. She began to shake him, trying to get him to wake up.

He jerked awake, mumbling something incoherent as he did. "What?" She asked.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. I was dreaming."

"I saw. You were tossing and turning."

"And you were concerned? Aww, how sweet. No, it just wasn't a very good dream, that's all."

"What was it about? You seemed pretty upset."

"It was nothing, really. Just about Danica…the horse-humping bitch. Even now that I left, she's still there when I close my eyes…damn it."

"Want to talk about it?" Abby was curious in spite of herself.

"Oh, no, are you one of those chicks who likes guys to talk about their feelings? 'Cuz, man, I've dated a few of those, and the worst was when they wanted to talk after sex. And all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there."

"No, I just figured you might want to get it off your chest. Plus, if you're going to be a part of this we need to know as much as we can about your past with vamps."

"All right," he said reluctantly. "D'you want the long version or the short?"

"The short is fine. Just the highlights is plenty."

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He took a deep breath. "You know the kind of woman that just screams trouble? You see her, and every warning bell in your brain starts going off, but you still manage to ask for her number? Well, that's all I ever hook up with. But this betty... whoa! She blew them all away in the shitstorm sweepstakes. I picked Danica up in a bar, and spent the last five years playing hide-and-go-suck as her little vampire cabana boy, until you found me and got me the cure. And that's basically turning a frown upside-down." He fell silent, waiting expectantly for Abby to say something.

"Well that's certainly the highlights. It doesn't explain your sleep-talk, but it's more than I knew."

"What sleep-talk? I don't talk in my sleep. I may sing, dance, or jack off, but definitely no talking."

Abby tactfully decided to ignore the last comment. Hannibal tended to avoid uncomfortable topics by making outrageous statements, many of which weren't true but usually made people stop talking about it. Unfortunately, Abby was not prone to giving up easily. "Come on, King, I heard you saying 'no' over and over, and I'm pretty sure you weren't talking to me, since I wasn't doing anything."

She wasn't going to drop it, was she. Fuck. He hated talking about stuff like this, mainly because it made him feel vulnerable, and he hated feeling that way. Danica had done a pretty good job of making him feel that way most of the time, and he tried to avoid it in any other situation whenever possible. However, he had a feeling that this chick was not going to let it go, so getting it over with now was probably the best choice. "Okay, you want to know what the issue was, fine, I'll tell you. Danica liked to play rough. Really rough. As in, she thought it was a hoot to keep me chained up in a room for her to play with whenever the fuck she wanted. And she wasn't gentle, either; most of the time, when she left I had huge gashes and scratches and holes all over. Granted, I was a vamp, so I healed quick, but it hurt like a bitch until it did. Plus, she would take advantage of the fact that I hated what I was, and she'd torment me with hunting and blood…like scratching herself until she bled when I hadn't fed for a while and teasing me with the blood, that kinda shit. Consequently, I've been having nightmares about the shit she put me through. Happy now?"

She looked stunned. Had he taken it too far? He hoped not; he couldn't afford to get kicked out now, in his current condition he'd be a sitting duck for Danica and her incest-obsessed brother. Abby looked at him and quietly asked, "Can I see it?"

"_What_! See what? I can think of a few things, but somehow I don't think it's what you're talking about, considering what we've been discussing."

"Your glyph, idiot. I figured you probably had one, and I want to see it so I can see if maybe we've run into the house before."

Oh. That made sense. "I guess." He pulled down the waistband of his pants until she could see the glyph tattooed on his skin. She looked at it, then motioned for him to pull up his pants. "Nope, don't know the glyph. It's not one of the twelve houses."

"Yeah, she's not a pureblood, doesn't belong to any of the houses."

Suddenly there was a light tap on the door. They both watched as a little girl entered the room and walked over to Abby. "Mommy said I could come in; she says the sick man is better now, so I can come look."

Hannibal looked at the kid. It had been a while since he had seen someone with such pure intentions. Until recently it had been people who saw him more as entertainment than anything else, and more recently it had been people who feared him on principle. But this kid, she had none of that; she had just heard about someone new in the building and wanted to investigate. It was a nice change of pace. "Hey, I'm Hannibal. What's your name?"

"Zoe," said the kid shyly. "Is it true you used to kill people?" Abby looked shocked. "Zoe, that's not a very nice thing to ask someone you just met."

"No, it's cool. Yeah, Zoe, I did. But I didn't like doing it, so when your friend here found me she took me back with her and your mom made me all better."

"Oh." She looked thoughtful for a minute. "Are you going to stay for breakfast?"

"I think I could manage that." He looked at Abby. "Can I ? Pleeeease?" He threw in the theatrics for the kid, making her laugh as he put on his best puppy-dog eyes and looked pleadingly at Abby. She sighed. "Yes, King, I think you can stay for breakfast."

"Yay!" Said Zoe, making Hannibal smile. He was definitely going to like it here. "My mommy says you haven't seen a sunrise in five years."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"The sun's gonna come up in a little while. Wanna see?"

Hannibal grinned. It was about fucking time. Abby looked at him meaningfully. "I'm not sure if you're ready for this, King. We don't know how effective the cure is this soon, and I'm pretty sure you don't want to ash when you're so close."

He looked back. Was she crazy? "I'll be fine, Whistler, don't worry so much." He turned to Zoe. "Definitely. Lead the way." She grabbed his hand and led him down the winding halls to a small door. She opened it, standing on her tip-toes to reach the handle, then continued up a steep staircase until she reached a metal door at the top. She opened this one, and led Hannibal out onto the roof. "We have to wait. The sun's not ready yet."

Hannibal stood in the semi-darkness, wondering if Abby was right. He felt okay, but was he really? What if he did just burn into ash the minute the sun came up? Not that he'd care much if it did, after all, he'd be dead. But what about the Nightstalkers? They had helped him out, cured him, given him his life back. It would be awful for them to be so close to success only to have him die on them. But now it was too late to turn back; the sun was coming up.

He closed his eyes, reflexively flinching away from the sun. It itched a little, but no burning. He opened his eyes. It was a little bright after the dim fluorescent lights of the building below, but not unmanageable. Sunrise was really beautiful. And this one was especially so, partly because it had been so long since he had seen one and partly because it proved that everything was going to be different now. He looked down at the little girl beside him who represented his new life. He was definitely going to like it here.


End file.
